Footprints
by Alycia96
Summary: "Many individuals walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints on your heart." A collection of moments shared between Phineas and Isabella, each contributing to their life's remarkable journey. No concrete storyline.
1. Cards

Isabella was surprised when Phineas failed to offer her a card, per their usual Valentine's Day tradition. She _had_ come to view the holiday as somewhat Hallmark constituted. Nevertheless, her blatant disappointment was not yielded when she returned home to a card deficient, contently beaming Phineas. It was not that he had forgotten or didn't care, he justified. The notion of greeting cards simply did not appeal to him as purposeful anymore.

And as she lay in his embrace, tanned fingers grazing the small of her back and ebony locks, heat of their foreheads fusing, his lips idly brushing over hers, she believed him.


	2. Sage

**A/N** Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! Each Favorite and Story Alert is very much appreciated. :) Enjoy.

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Isabella chuckled at the young man's words. "Phineas, you can't travel to Indonesia, simply _become _a sage, and expect villagers to flock to you. It's a bit more complicated than that."

"If I didn't know any better, miss," he poked at her ribs, resulting in a giggle, "I'd assume you were deeming my philosophical values unrefined."

"No, it's not that at all!" She laughed once more at the conversation's absurdity, progressing from the monthly church donation to Indonesian sages.

Phineas pulled himself into a meditation position, lids shut. "Yeesh," he smirked. "All I do is try to be a nice guy, save you the trouble of setting ethics for our children-"

"Our children?" Shock merged itself into Isabella's timbre. Far as she was aware, only she and Phineas dwelled within the petite abode.

"Well... yeah." His cerulean orbs exposed themselves and a vastness of certainty. "What did you think, we were going to regard our lives complete _without_ hearing construction in the backyard?"

The young woman of twenty-one years shook her head and smiled, careful not to let Phineas notice. She wondered who would remain more youthful: their hypothetical children, or her current fiancé.


	3. Outlet

At sixteen years, Isabella welcomed an equally aged Phineas into her home. Pupils dilated from arousal, he swiftly and impulsively pressed his lips to her own. Scents of earthy musk and amorous rose merged themselves. Calidity of the skin rose with an increase of the movements' velocity. It fell when the girl tore away, gasping for breath and a regained sense of consciousness.

Not that he had any intentions of dating, he subsequently explained. She was simply such a fantastic friend; no, _more_ than a friend, he resolved. The dedication of every fiber in his being to refrain from kissing her, grabbing her hand was constantly present. He saw it necessary to discover an outlet for his sheer devotion to the young girl... such actions as prior seemed only appropriate.

His usual suaveness returned as he ambled home. No plans of courting between the two had arised, nor much of a change in any of the summer's plans. Only unbridled, absolute, immaculate and destined _love_.

Not that she minded.


	4. Mango

"You see this mango?" Phineas nonchalantly tossed the citrus orb into the air. "Mangoes," he threw a glance Isabella's way, "are often regarded as kind of the fruits." A bite was taken. "Can't help but call to mind myself, whom I believe to be king of all twenty-something men in Danville."

The young woman playfully rolled her eyes, all too accustomed to such jesters. "Were you also aware," she provoked, "that mango leaves have been established as toxic?"

Phineas chuckled. "Is that so? Well, if that's how you feel, then I guess I can't do as formerly planned."

"Do what?" Isabella queried his actions, curiosity igniting her already enticed eyes.

"This."

He touched a knee to the ground as validity saturated his features.

Isabella's heart forcefully slammed itself against her chest. The young man kneeling before her pulled a gleaming engagement ring from a velvet casing, both he and the diamond glistening with amour.

She lightly drew her breath.  
"Phineas…"

And thus composed the stunning, resplendent life of Phineas and Isabella Flynn.


	5. Wander

Isabella clearly recalled an excerpt from the preachers' sermon: "You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath. Therefore, my friends, flee from idolatry." The words consistently repeated themselves.

Now, to say Isabella was not a religious teenager would be incorrect.

Verses of the Hebrew bible were strategically placed throughout her bedroom. Attending the synagogue was a strict occurrence on Sunday mornings. Prayers, even, were of a higher caliber than her straight-A graded schoolwork.

Thus, her emotions savagely overtook her consciousness, not allowing a chance to free herself. Spotlights flooded the backyard in rapid movements. She fell to her knees at the zealous resonance of Phineas' guitar, let alone the sight of his fervent ecstasy. The presence of any others seemed to dissipate. Her body trembled with the possession of his lustful melody. Its beat surged through the strongest of her emotions. Her cheeks burned with carnal desires, and her mind raged with longing.

Though very much to her objection, she could slowly discern her piety wandering from her God, and losing itself in Phineas.


	6. Perpetual

Isabella seated herself along the beach's coastline, a chilled breeze shivering her petite frame. Water lapped in the depression of sand beneath her. The moon's faded light accentuated her despondently saturated features. She gazed at the midnight sky, now devoid of its once illuminated stars.

A whisper of movement deferred her thoughts. The audibility yielded, and Phineas dolefully settled himself beside Isabella. She turned her glance to him. Eyebrows angled towards the sand, body contracted in fear of his own emotions. Moments passed.

"Do you ever wish we'd fall in love?"

Phineas tore his yearning stare from the ocean's tranquilly coarse waves. Lulling was the line his fingertip thus traced along her palm, as he allowed her head to jadedly rest on his shoulder.

"All the time, Isabella. All the time."


	7. Woven

Hey everyone! Wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you for the wonderful support. You've each been so incredible, and I thoroughly hope you (at least slightly) enjoy the chapters. Each and review is appreciated to a near irrational degree.

Once again, thank you for the encouragement! xo

* * *

"Why is everyone staring at us like that?"

Phineas' inquiry awoke Isabella from her tranquil state of harmony. Her glance placed itself upon the surrounding student body, nearly each individual possessing a countenance of endearment. Interspersed 'aw's were audible, and delighted whispers could be perceived. "Finally," she heard from a select few.

He chuckled in amusement. "They act like we're dating."

As the two continued to saunter the school hallway, though, Isabella could not help but wonder if he noticed their tightly interwoven fingers.


	8. Classic

Quick disclaimer before you read this: 'Classic' was the prompt for this chapter, and _The Notebook _immediately came to mind (seeing as its storyline is, essentially, classic, IMHO.) I'm sure plenty of you will recognize this scene... I have been positively addicted to the movie as of late. Analyzing it more, I noticed that it was pretty identical to what could (potentially) transpire with Phineas and Isabella's relationship. Thus, my only intention was to recreate the scene with them as the subject matters. Not at all meant to be viewed as a plagiarized concept.

Thank you once again for the wonderful support. : ) 

* * *

The storm was now at its culmination, what with the rain cascading, thunder clapping, and lightning touching the earth's surface.

Phineas sat at the foot of the small row boat. Isabella had seated herself opposite him, watching as the oars gradually advanced them towards the shoreline. Any prior gaiety of the scene was non-existent, and a recondite placidity hung about the air.

The canoe reached the dock. Isabella jadedly traipsed to Phineas' home, dress deluged and heels pounding against the wooden surface.

She stopped.

"Why did you leave me waiting like that?"

Phineas turned his attention from the ropes to Isabella's yearning countenance, his own features disconcerted.

She paused once more. "Why?"

A response was not being attained anytime soon. Isabella was aware, but that did not yield her promulgation of such inhibited emotions.

"When I left, you promised me that you would at least write. I waited for ten years, Phineas. Ten years. Do you understand that? We held the potential to create this… this beautiful life, a miracle! You knew that! I'm married now, and it's too late, and you just can't…" Her eyes slipped close in a nimiety of remorse. "What we had, what we were. It was never over for me."

His brow furrowed. "I wrote you. I wrote you every day for a year. Three hundred sixty-five letters, and you never responded."

Isabella's chest heaved with dubiety. "You… You wrote me?"

"Yes!" he bayed, resentment clear in his tenor as he continued to approach her. "It wasn't over, Isabella. It still isn't over."

And thus, he forcefully pressed her lips to his own. A near lethal amalgamation of fervor and anguish constituted itself. The raindrops descended heavier than before, seeming to understand the moment's purport. Overcome with the absence of each other's presence for years, they held to each other as they would a lifeline.

Ten years prior, it became their children's favorite story.


	9. Senescence

She knew.

Isabella would be obligated to reach a threshold in her life, one where any trace of youth would be abandoned at bay. The essential notion had always seemed so dismal and unfathomable. 'Why fix what was never broken?' she questioned herself. Such lighthearted summers with friends, with _Phineas_; the most prominent responsibility taking form in a tenth grade research paper; a philosophy intoxicated with bliss. It would all soon be diverged into adulthood. Tears often slipped from her eyes at the mere thought. Where was this supposed… higher power, readily available to assist her every move in the transition? Such a passage's occurrence was simply too intricate for her understanding.

Yet as she lay in Phineas' serenely tender embrace, a wedding ring inhabited by her left hand and a protruding belly to coincide, she could not envision a more perfect journey.


	10. Remembrance

**Oh goodness... my deepest apologies for the technical difficulties. Your patience is much appreciated while FF attempts to work this bug out. : ) As always, thank you for the wonderful dedication!**

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"One… two… three… Open."

While Isabella despised admitting to suspicion, Phineas' extended periods of absence from their apartment had been worrying. He promised it, though: Today would deliver one of the biggest and best surprises of all her years.

As his hands disengaged from her eyes to reveal an expression of awe, Isabella had to agree.

Tears threatened with their release. "You… you actually built…?"

Phineas chuckled at her loss for words, gently smiling. "I did."

The recently wed couple stood in front of a house, rather simple in its style. It lay on the sand, ocean waves lapping a near twenty yards from the front door. The white-washed wood and navy shutters illustrated a perfect tint of innocence. The sunset reflected upon the windows in brilliant golds and saffrons. A verdant palm tree shaded two rocking chairs, and tanned beach grass surrounded them. Pillars upheld one of three verandas, leading to an auburn colored roof. A niche, intended for writing and painting, overlooked the azul waters. To top it all off, a picket fence encompassed the backyard.

It was the exact house Isabella had described to him at ten years of age.


	11. Alone

Ferb had ventured to the hardware store in order to purchase a reactor tool, one which would successfully complete the day's Big Idea. Buford and Baljeet had _insisted _upon accompanying him, not obscuring their knowing glances from Isabella. Thus, she and Phineas were alone for the day.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, though it was quite difficult to resent. The shared peace was comforting.

After some time, the young boy's attention turned from his clipboard to Isabella, who stood by his side as she intently worked on the machinery. Coyness saturated his expression.

"Not to be vain and make it sound like some incredible experience or whatnot, but what does it feel like to be around me?"

Isabella jumped at the sudden break of silence. Calm, assured, serene… He seemed to exude everything _but _anxiety, a black and white contrast to her tension. How long had she waited for a moment like this, only to receive it in a lack of confidence?

She chose her words as a surgical patient choosing her anesthetic.

"…What do you mean?"

"You know, like, emotionally," Phineas returned. "Do you ever just _think _about what it's like to be in each other's company?"

Uncertainty still dwelled in a potential response. "You're sure you want to know?" she confirmed.

"Mhm."

She sighed, feeling more like she was jumping off a cliff than professing her love to Phineas.

"I guess the only adjective I can use is 'secure'. I can't really explain it, but it's fantastic, Phineas. There's something so comforting and inspiring about your demeanor. So much so, that I'm… almost afraid to be away from you. I just feel like I can accomplish everything in your presence. Heck, we nearly _have_. Oh, and the happiness!"

Her words were stopped short as she lightly giggled. Should she continue? It was a wonderful feeling to free herself of this burden, but she had to laugh at the irony. Nothing would become of this. Nothing at all, and she should have grasped onto such a fact firmly. Their relations would remain the same as they've always proved to be: platonic.

No matter, she continued.

"My goodness, the happiness you bring me is near irrational. Everything feels so indigenous, and I thank God for you _every night _when I pray, and I feel so blessed to have you in my life, and I seriously can't imagine it without you and…"

She cringed, recognizing the weight of her words. Time to stop.

"That was a bit much, huh?" she apologetically asked of Phineas. A discernable expression lay on his features.

He inwardly chuckled as he glanced back to his clipboard, silently thrilled to hear her perceive each and every one of his emotions.

"No. No it wasn't."


	12. Trendy

It was all the rage in the adolescent magazines: New! Trendy makeup styles! Wear it today and snag _any _boy you want!

Of course, Isabella was swayed immediately after reading the subtitles.

The day's morning routine consisted of a quite heavy foundation, layering itself two shades darker than her genuine skin tone. Black liner thickly enclosed the eyes, accompanied by Lord knows how many coats of mascara. A powdered rogue was more so **thrown** on than applied to her cheekbones. Lipstick messily veiled the lip's shape, not quite _defining _them as it had the model's. A smack of the overwhelmingly bright red, and… perfect. Ready for Phineas.

"Hey, guys! Whatcha doin'?"

Her approach into the backyard was as subtle as her demeanor allowed. She could feel the sun intently beaming its rays, just _perfect _for highlighting her features. Phineas would notice in a heartbeat.

Boy, did he ever.

"Isabella! Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

The young girl quickly examined her appearance. Was her leg bleeding? Was something wrong with her dress? Did a bruise lay on her arm?

As the answer to all of such inquiries was a firm _no_, she responded hesitantly.

"Yes… Yes I am. Why, what's wrong?"

He was concerned, in the simplest of definitions. "It looks like you were in the sun for a month and forgot to sleep the whole time!"

She couldn't decide if she wanted to strike the blatancy of his expression or kiss it.

"Phineas, it's just makeup," she returned rather dejectedly.

A sigh of contentment was breathed, aware that she had, in fact, remained in good health. "Oh. What a relief," Phineas chuckled. "Why are you wearing that, anyway? Not to sound impolite and all, but you looked a _bit _more aesthetically pleasing before."

Isabella perked. "I did?"

"Well, of course. Didn't she, Ferb?"

An ascertained nod replaced spoken confirmation.

"It's less noticeable now. The way everything always looks so symmetrical, the contrast of your bright eyes and dark hair and thick eyelashes, how your smile just lights up a room… Oh, and your nose!" He laughed once more at the conceived image. "Too dang endearing. Sounds a lil' corny, but you're _perfect_."

Out went the makeup.


	13. Double Entendre

A/N: Not too keen on this one, but hey. It works.

As always, every single review, piece of constructive criticism, favorite, story alert, etc., is much appreciated. Hope this finds you happy, healthy, and well. Enjoy your spring break! xo 

* * *

Jadedly, Phineas sulked next to Ferb. The sun gleamed through the leaves of the backyard's tree, acting as quite a contrast to his palpable disappointment.

"Ferb, she's still not home! This has to be the _third _extra day she's stayed at the Fireside Girls convention. It's great that she's enjoying herself, but still…"

Both absorbed the engulfing silence, Ferb perusing his novel and Phineas twiddling his thumbs. Moments passed.

"Perhaps Isabella has always been home," Ferb contravened. "You simply need to open the front door, and you'll see her."

The quiet that Phineas found to be … _placid_, almost, returned itself to his grasp. Ferb's double entendres had always been comprehensible, such a word being ambiguous to the neighborhood children. Hence, it was surprising when this one left Phineas' thoughts disarrayed.

Had he misunderstood it – or had he refused to accept it?


	14. Loyalty

The murmur of high schoolers' trivial conversations encompassed Isabella, who slowly – but surely – made her way to Phineas' self-constructed Mustang. The young man was nonchalantly leaned against its frame, arms crossed and a foot propped against the door.

He smiled apologetically as she approached. "Rough day, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

A knowing glance followed.

"Oh, you're talking about what Adyson and Holly did?" She scoffed. "Please. I whip my hair at those girls."

Phineas dramatically shielded his eyes, retracting his body in fear. "No, not the dreaded pop culture reference!" The feigned horror found Isabella giggling. When had his presence, she mused, delivered anything _but _de facto solace?

All joking matters aside, Phineas' mirthful timbre cleared hints of reverie within her thoughts.

"Hey. You'll always have me, right?"

Bliss saturated the smile he evoked. "Yes. Yes I will."

And that was quite enough.


	15. Melancholy

Hello, hello!

Wishing everyone a joyous Easter. Hope the day finds you happy, healthy, and surrounded by loved ones.  
As always, my best gratitude for your wonderful dedication and support.

Much love,  
Alycia

* * *

Maple Street's quaint café welcomed Phineas and Isabella. The teenagers' presence was received amongst the scent of baked goods – daily attendance was theirs, as was an escape from high school life. Discussions ranged from platypuses to philosophy.

After purchasing their coffee, Phineas escorted Isabella to the familiar seating arrangement. He hoped to delve into a near routine of happiness.

Such joy, he quickly realized, was nowhere to be found.

The young girl appeared to be deliberating her actions. Confidence had evolved into worry, as bared through her declining eyebrows and fingernails tapping the counter.

"I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, Phin," she offered, "but… Austin thinks I should stop coming here with you."

Silence returned.

"You know, coming here to spend time with you." She was careful with the delivery of her words, wanting to cynically laugh at the image of digging her own grave.

"Why?"

The blatancy of his question was startling. "I guess… I guess he thinks it's threatening his relationship with me."

_Isabella, that's totally fine! Austin's your boyfriend now. You should act in accordance to his desires and his desires only._

She needed that. She needed the confirmation to date someone else, to find solace in Phineas' apparent lack of romantic interest – whether she fiercely despised that "someone else's" presence or not.

Greatly as Isabella hoped, her intuition told her otherwise. Phineas' kindness was simply not present when his friendships were in jeopardy. What made these circumstances any different?

"You're not willing to comply, right?" Phineas attempted to conceal the heartache in his voice, a wasted struggle.

"I don't know." Her words balanced on the fine line of desperation and desire. "I really don't know anymore."

Moments passed.

The table soon found itself supporting Phineas' frame, his lips resting a mere inch from her ear.

The ensuing whisper shivered her frame.

"Austin must be unable to empathize with true friendship."

Afraid to meet his glance, Isabella paid regard to the familiar warmth of her hand. It was encompassed by Phineas', whose thumb stroked her palm.

She desperately wanted to smile at his attempts of comfort. Nevertheless, it was without surprise that her jaded line of defense warranted tears instead.


	16. Arabesque

**I just read over a few of the earlier chapters, and my goodness. I'm sorry. I don't think I realized how pretentious I sounded, what with the over-the-top vocabulary. I'm attempting to work on it now, but please: if the writing regresses to being ornate, let me know. Constructive criticism is always wonderful.**

**Honestly, my deepest apologies are extended. I had no idea until someone pointed it out.**

**Oh, and the song referenced here is _Arabesque _by Claude Debussy_. _Give it a listen; beautiful, beautiful piece.**

**xo**

* * *

Golds and yellows danced across the parlor, and serenity breezed in through the windows. As Isabella's grandparents had been the former owners, the house's antiquity was warm; comforting.

Her eyes perused the room, stopping on a grand piano. Lord, how her heart ached with the memories.

She stepped forward.

Its aged texture was a contrast to the delicate fingertip grazing over the keys, but a 'welcome home' all the same.

_I wonder… _She mused. Would that one piece still be hidden in the bench? It was her grandmother's favorite, and Isabella had been the only other pianist of their family able to perform it.

Dozens of compositions were messily thrown about. _Come on, come on – ah, there we go. _The crinkled paper felt natural in her grasp.

As if it was a forbidden jewel, her eyes darted across the room. Lightly but despondently chuckling to herself, she remembered: no one was home to hear.

Moments passed, silence prevailing among them.

Her fingers slowly depressed into the keys.

She fumbled. What made her think she could simply _play _this after years in its absence – years away from a piano, for goodness' sake? She felt compelled to get up, walk away from it. It was a lost cause.

And then, she listened. Truly listened – she could hear it_._

The sweet, passionate melody captivated her. Her movements became more graceful with the progression of notes. So full of radiance, full of tender inspiration and happiness and beauty, it rose and fell with her hurried breath.

It was everything dear, secret, sacred to mankind. It breathed sadness; bliss strayed not far behind. The landscape her future painted, what had once belonged to the past – tears threatened with their escape, and she allowed it.

It was beautiful and it was unearthly. Even so, she could not distinguish _why_. She could not distinguish why until the embrace of her fiancé joined auburn locks with ebony. She could not distinguish why until that familiar warmth encompassed her hand, and the piano's melody abruptly began.

It was Phineas.


	17. Miracle

**Taking requests, if anyone is interested! : ) Thank you, as always, for your love and support.**

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Blades of grass parted underneath Phineas and Isabella. Stars were dotted among the evening sky, escorted by a rare quiet.

Minutes allowed the two lay side by side. They found peace in the silence.

Phineas' shoulder soon acted as a headrest for Isabella, and - to neither of their surprise - he corresponded.

The heaviness of Isabella's eyes far defeated her will to stay awake. As quickly as they had closed, though, they opened at the reverberation of Phineas' voice.

"Life is so beautiful."

The whisper nearly sent a chuckle through her frame. "Through all we've encountered this past summer, that epiphany arrives _now_?"

"Just think about it, Isabella."

His hushed tone remained, as if careful not to wake her.

"Can you believe how far we've come? What started as a goal to seize every day instilled our faith in each other. We're family now. I mean, it's almost similar to Candace and Jeremy moving to Hollywood with Xavier and Amanda after they're married!"

Restraint was impossible for Isabella; all guffaws let loose. In her defense, it was hard to neglect such endearing innocence.

Nevertheless, her heart fell in response to what was next acknowledged.

"We're going to be apart from each other one day, just like Candace and Jeremy are moving away. We can't stay in Danville forever, right? We're… we're not going to be together." A jaded sigh. "But we'll still _be _a family. And to reciprocate the feelings of those who love me, who genuinely care for me…"

His fingers subconsciously intertwined with hers. "I'm blessed."

The stars received Isabella's following glance. Try as she might, she could not understand what she had done to deserve him.

Eased, his own wonderment induced a chuckle. "It's a miracle, huh?"

She smiled. "Yes it is, Phineas. Yes it is."


	18. Love

"Phineas, I… I love you."

Ferb was gone for 'sister – British step brother bonding time', as so appropriately deemed by Candace.

Isabella, of course, jumped at the chance: she would declare her love to Phineas. Perfect.

Hence, there she was: waiting for a response from Phineas, whose eyebrows reached the heavens. "You do?"

A firm nod ensued.

"Oh."

Well, her imagination certainly hadn't offered _that _response.

"Yes, all summer, Phineas. But you've been blind to the whole thing … Evidently, I was dropping anvils as hints. I still can't figure out why you didn't notice."

"Maybe I noticed you were acting different, but are you sure that's the right word?"

"Phineas, I love you," she reiterated. He cringed at the word's weight. _Love_.

"Are you really unable to put two and two together?" she demanded. "For crying out loud, Phineas, I sacrificed a moment of romance – on an island, no less – so that your world philosophy could stay intact! I've waited months, years for this, and that's all you can muster? 'Oh'?"

"Isabella, look. It's not that I don't think of you as more than a friend, because I do. My gosh, you're the best friend anyone could ask for. But we're just not ready for love yet. We're young. We'd mishandle something so important – for now, at least. It's … heh, it's impossible."

That was it. The breaking point. "Let me get this straight: traveling through time, building a molecular transporter, and flying the world in one day are all _possible _compared to reciprocating emotion? Well, please excuse my ignorance! Phineas, you just can't expect – "

Much to her thanks, her lungs elicited a sigh as natural refrain. She was unaware of how to continue. All she had wanted was him; was that too much to ask?

"I'm sorry. It's just ... difficult to wait for ambiguity," she pined. "Please try. Not for my sake, but yours. I'll still be here when – if – you're ready."

And as quickly as she had come, she was gone, leaving Phineas to stare vacantly at the grass.

He couldn't detect its sudden motive. He wasn't sure of it, nor did he want to be.

Moments later, Phineas found himself racing to Isabella's home.


	19. Train

Goodness, I'm so sorry for the unexplained hiatus! Things have been crazy - school is coming to a close, leaving for vacation next week, so many plans to work out for the dance recital...  
I'm sorry. Though I can't promise anything, I _will _attempt to be more consistent with the chapters. : ) Hope you're all doing well.

* * *

To claim Phineas and Isabella were in constant accord would be false. They argued – they argued and they argued, to the point where Isabella questioned her agreement to marriage. Today's strife had come from miscommunication; nothing particularly _new. _Phineas lay in bed, however, frustrated with the looming doubt. _That _was certainly new.

It was new, and he had had enough of it.

"Isabella… Isabella, wake up!" The young man turned to shake his wife, immediately regretful of his actions. Disturbing such peace was his last wish.

Isabella's eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings. "My goodness, Phineas, it's three in the morning. Is everything okay?"

"Can I please ask you something?" Accompanied was an expression so closely resembling a child, Isabella couldn't help but comply.

"Sure," she nearly laughed.

He began with no hesitation. "Just, for one second, imagine circumstances where you wake up, and I'm still in a really deep sleep."

"Ah, but _you _woke up when I was still asleep – peacefully, at that."  
"Mmm, hypothetical situation. That's beside the point."  
"Touché."

"Regardless…" he would chuckle, but tension was still palpable. "A bright light shines through the window – brighter than anything you've ever seen before. A train pulls to the side of the house. It's golden, and the sun is gleaming along its windows. The conductor walks out, joyfully. He tells you the train will take you anywhere you've ever wanted to be. 'You'll never be happier,'" Phineas feigned the conductor. "Would you… go? To wherever the train would be taking you?"

Silence prevailed for a few moments. "Well, those are silly circumstances," Isabella retorted. She appeared to be serious, as per Phineas' terms… Would she really disregard his emotions like this?

"Isabella," he pleaded, "can I just have an answer without any jovial-"

"You're worried about all of these arguments, huh?"

Wordlessly, his knees drew to his chest. "I just… it's horrible, Isabella. All I want is for you to be happy all the time, but I'm always doing something wrong. Miscommunication, power struggles. Never is it _intentional _– that makes it hurt even more. I don't want you to leave, but I feel like you're going to one day."

Isabella's eyebrows furrowed. For such an irrational fear of _displaying _fear, rare exceptions as these worried her.

"Phineas, am I laying besides you?" she inquired.

Almost feeling it necessary to confirm, the question forced his glance sideways. "Yes. Yes, you are."

"Is my hand wearing the ring you crafted for me – just for me – six months ago?"  
"Yes."  
"Do I consistently nurture the home you built as a symbol of _us_?"  
"Yes, but—"  
"Do you love me?"

Phineas' eyebrow rose in mirth. Her knowledge of that answer was plenty existent, and he knew.

"Considering..." She smiled of empathy. "No, I wouldn't leave."

Moonlight gleamed subtly, and owls cooed their usual sign of peace. Phineas, though, refused to accept the gesture. Isabella had never seen him like this. Lines resided between his eyebrows, shoulders hunched in despondency. His innocence was present as ever… Did that only hurt him? Was he so naïve as to think her love would stray?

"You don't – you don't even understand, do you?" she asked, shocked at the revelation. "Phineas, all of my dreams are constituted here. You have to remember that. We have our rough days, but… our mistakes teach us about life. That's why we're sharing it together. You're everything to me, Phineas. Minutes without you would be like… excuse the poor analogy, but a desert without rain." She reached a hand to his cheek. "Our relationship is just indigenous. We were meant to stay together, and I will never leave you. Always remember that. Promise?"

Days later, Phineas remembered. Sirens, blindingly fluorescent lights, nor the roaring shouts of doctors could vex his memory. Her laughter remained through the cries of family members. Ebony locks, cerulean eyes, bright smiles flashed through his mind at the surgeon's words. "Our deepest apologies for your loss," they empathized. "She was a wonderful woman." Phineas failed to listen, legs buckling to the ground with his tears.

A beep. His hands drew from his face, allowing sight. The sound grew louder; more rapid.

Her voice became resonant. Though weak, Isabella's eyelids granted view of Phineas. Warmth was ushered through her smile when their hands joined.

She stayed.


End file.
